


Fiddle You Must

by voleuse



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-05
Updated: 2006-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-04 06:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>And broken laugh, and a thousand memories, and not a single regret.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fiddle You Must

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through _Serenity_. Title, summary, and excerpts adapted from Edgar Lee Masters' _Fiddler Jones_.

  
_I ended up with forty acres;  
I ended up with a broken fiddle -  
And broken laugh_   


It's a quiet flight, straight on to Persephone. It takes some doing, but Zoe finally manages to unwrap herself from Wash. She kisses him, twice, then swears she'll get him some tea.

"Are you sure?" Wash grins at her, tugs at the bottom button of her shirt. "We could keep going."

Zoe tucks her shirt in, slaps his hand away. "I'm thirsty, too."

Wash mock-wipes his brow, and she kisses him a third time.

*

 

The tea leaves are third-rate, and it takes them a while to brew to a decent strength. While she waits, Zoe picks at a can's torn label and tries not to grin too wide.

There's a metal echo, Mal tromping down the corridor. A minute and a half later, he appears in the doorway, fiddling with a transmitter beacon. She clears her throat, and his stride stutters.

"Sir," she says.

He watches her for a moment, jaw working sideways. Then he starts fiddling with the beacon again, twisting one of the wires around another. Thus occupied, he says, "Zoe," and settles at the table.

Zoe pours a cup of tea, walks to the table. The steam leaves a trail as she slides the cup across the table.

His fingers pause again, then he sets the beacon down. "Thanks," he says, and swigs a gulp like whiskey.

She goes back to the counter, pours two more cups. She sips her own, and waits.

"So," Mal says. "You and, uh. Him." His fingers encircle the cup, and he twists it against the tabletop.

Zoe raises an eyebrow. "Yes."

"Oh." Mal stares into his mug, at the shreds of leaves floating in the liquid. "Seems like we ought to, you know--"

"Talk." Zoe sets the cups down, sits across from Mal. "About our feelings, sir?"

Mal coughs, then smirks. "Then maybe we can have a pillow fight." He still doesn't look up. "You know."

"Of course, sir." Zoe smiles, picks up the cups and walks to the hatchway.

"Zoe," he says, and she stops. Turns back, and he's still facing away from her.

"Sir?"

His hands flex against the table. He swivels in his seat, then meets her eyes.

The mugs are hot in Zoe's hands, and he still isn't saying anything. She tilts her head.

"Mal," she says, and he flinches and turns away.

"Nothing," he says to the beacon on the table. "Nothing at all."

Zoe waits a second longer, then steps out, walks back to the bridge.

  
_And I never started to plow in my life  
That some one did not stop in the road  
And take me away to a dance or picnic._   


After every job, it's the same thing. The particulars might change, but the theme is constant.

Jayne leers at Zoe from across the hangar bay, and she rolls her eyes.

"Again," Wash says, with a weary sigh, "married."

Jayne grunts. "Married ain't dead, little man."

Zoe straightens, slides the panel closed. "Who said anything about little?" she remarks.

Jayne sputters, and over his shoulder, Wash mouths _I love you_.

*

 

Sometimes, however, things get a little more complicated. For example, when one job calls for a woman, a fancy dress, and a dead eye.

Kaylee doesn't have the weapons skill, and Mal doesn't have the curves. Inara's already known to the target, so she lends something black and slinky to Zoe, instead.

The dress is long, form-fitting, and cut low, front and back. Inara ties the ribbon, a delicate weaving around Zoe's neck. "It looks better on you," she says to Zoe.

"It's open to debate." Zoe smiles, ties her hair back with another ribbon. "I won't disagree, though." Inara laughs, and together, they finagle her shoes on.

*

 

The rest of the prep doesn't take very long; a pistol strapped against Zoe's thigh, a knife hidden in her bodice. Kaylee makes several admiring coos, and Mal emits the requisite wolf whistle.

They run down the job as usual, Mal laying out the specs to everybody's skeptical eyes.

After the third time Jayne gets distracted in her cleavage, however, Zoe holds up her hand. "Captain?"

Mal gestures a go-ahead, and Zoe smiles. Turns on her stiletto heel and slams her fist into Jayne's chin.

"Damn, woman," Jayne moans from the floor.

"Thank you, Zoe," Mal says, and continues with the plan.

  
_a pillar of dust  
Or whirling leaves meant ruinous drought:  
They looked to me_   


After _Serenity_ lifts off of Haven, Zoe stands in the middle of their bedroom, her dress rippling around her legs like fog.

There is a checklist of things she needs to do, a constant threnody in the back of her mind. Fold and pack and stow. Mourn and memorialize. Move on.

If she takes that final step, however, it will mean she's begun the process. It will mean he's really gone, and she's really alone.

Their bed is large and empty. She's stripped it of its sheets. She might burn then, when next they're planetside.

"Zoe?" Inara's voice, drifting up from the corridor, the outside. Then steps, ringing hollow against the metal. "Zoe."

Inara's hand on Zoe's shoulder, warm and firm.

"I--" Zoe starts to say, then bites off the next word, _can't_.

Then Inara is helping Zoe out of the dress, handing her a shirt and trousers, boots and holster.

"--seems to think he can buzz past the nearest Alliance station and point and laugh," Inara is saying.

Zoe finishes buttoning her shirt. Her lips won't let her smile.

"You tackle him, and I'll convince River to steer towards Ezra." Inara touches her on the wrist. "Sound good?"

Zoe clears her throat. "It's a plan."

And together, they make it down the stairwell.


End file.
